Alpha Protocol: G22
by ViWi
Summary: In the aftermath of the events that transpired in Alpha Protocol, rogue agent M. Thorton sets out to resolve some unfinished business that were started on a yacht in Russia...
1. Prologue & Part I

**AUTHOR'S NOTE:**

If you're interested in reading, I highly recommend that you download the **PDF** with the full story! (Link can be found on my profile)

It contains edited images from the game, a fancy layout, and is how I intended the story to be read in the first place.

Cheers, & happy reading!

/V

* * *

**ALPHA PROTOCOL: G22**

**Content**

Prologue

"The Bird and the Fox"

"Jamming with Heck"

"St. George and the King's Daughter"

"Rime of the Ancient Mariner"

"Bee Stings"

Epilogue

* * *

**Prologue**

His gaze swept across the room, registering any possible anomalies.

The room was large and spacious, luxuriously decorated – but lacked a personal touch – more resembling a five star hotel suite than someones permanent residence. Its most prominent feature was an abnormally large flat screen TV hanging on the living room wall, sandwiched between two stacked bookshelves. The TV was on, but showed only static.

Nothing was out of the ordinary. He relaxed his eyes. Others would say that his caution bordered on the paranoid, but he knew a little paranoia went a long way to keep you alive in the business he was in.

He took a few steps toward the TV while loosening the backpack he wore from his shoulders. Reaching into the backpack, he procured a thin and lithe laptop that he placed on the sofa opposite the TV screen. Another dip into the bag turned up a few black wires that he proceeded to link between the TV and the laptop. He checked the wristwatch on his left arm.

"Any minute now." He murmured.

* * *

**Part I - "The Bird and the Fox"**

Out of the static on the screen a balding man wearing square glasses and a scarf materialized, flanked on either side by goggled men sporting red jumpsuits and semi-automatic rifles.

"Mike." The man said matter-of-factly.

"I see you changed your scarf, Albatross." Michael Thorton replied. "I'm curious, do you knit those yourself while leading super-secret ops over the comm?"

The man known as Albatross shook his head wearily and sighed. "Despite that trademark wit of yours, I am glad to see you made it out alive Mike." He paused. "Of course I..."

"Already knew that." Thorton filled in.

"Yes." He gave a quick nod and continued. "Sis filled me in on the blanks after I lost you over the comm, but tell me, why have you gone through the trouble of contacting me Mike? I would think with Leland dead and Alpha Protocol made public that our temporary alliance is at an end?"

It was true – the deal Michael Thorton had made with the enigmatic G22 cell leader known only as codename Albatross had been a kind of "A favor for a favor" type of deal. Thorton had garnered the trust and cooperation of Albatross after encountering his personal bodyguard, codename Sis, on a mission and spared her life after a prolonged firefight. Finding a common enemy in the corrupt government blackops program dubbed Alpha Protocol, they formed a temporary alliance of convenience - "The enemy of my enemy is my friend." ...Until my enemy is no more, apparently.

"Would you believe me if I said I just missed our little chats?" Thorton said. "No, I don't suppose you would." He sighed theatrically.

Albatross's face remained unchanged, as much of a mask as ever. "Alriiight." He sighed, realizing his efforts were wasted. "I'll get to the point. I'm just calling to say that I **know**." He deliberately emphasized the last word for added effect.

"You... know?" Albatross repeated. "And what exactly is it that you know agent Thorton?" His voice took on a barely noticeable edginess, while the lines on his forehead creased ever so slightly.

"Well, it hasn't been easy, I had to dig reeally deep. You guys don't like to leave traces. Kinda paranoid that way huh."

"I **suggest** you get to the point." Albatross interjected, clearly irritated now.

"Don't like being stringed along Albatross? Neither do I." Thorton said bluntly, all playfulness suddenly gone from his voice. "I know you used to work for the United States government as an intelligence analyst. At a separate black ops division to be exact. With its own chain of command, its own missions and - here's a shocker - no accountability. Any of this ring a bell?"

A frown was slowly spreading across Albatross's face but he remained silent, watching Thorton intently now.

"My point Albatross?" Thorton continued, contempt spilling into his voice. "You used to be Alpha Protocol. Hell, you used to be **Parker**."

Despite his rather vast repertoire of insults, Thorton could think of few things worse than being likened to Alpha Protocol's former chief analyst, Alan Parker. In Thorton's opinion, Parker was little more than a glorified calculator with a nasty temper. A particularly scary example of what happens when you think the world runs like a machine that you can control with the right push of a button.

Without warning, Albatross started laughing. A rare and slightly disconcerting sight as the man seemed to lack any sense of humor under normal circumstances.

"I'm afraid you have things somewhat backwards, Mike, but I commend you for your thorough research." Albatross said, still looking somewhat amused. "By all accounts I thought we had buried those files forever." He paused, looking thoughtful for a moment. "You seem to have a knack for... prying into other people's business, a useful trait in our line of work. I would advice caution in the future however, some things are meant to stay buried. Digging them up could have... unforeseen consequences."

"Resorting to veiled threats now Albatross?" Thorton scoffed. "Nothing stays buried forever, you of all people should know that."

"Perhaps." Albatross replied tersely. "And? Now what?"

"**Now**, I think you owe me an explanation."

"Do I? Mike? I don't think I owe you anything, not anymore." Albatross stated flatly.

"You're referring to Sis helping me out at the Alpha Protocol facility I assume? Don't get me wrong, I'm grateful for the assist but I hardly think I have you or G22 to thank for that. If anything, I owe **her**. Not **you**."

Albatross raised an eyebrow. "So you think Sis coming to your aid had nothing to do with the fact that I ordered her to?" He paused for a second. "Interesting. I'll tell her you feel that way, but you won't change my mind in this. All I can say is, whatever you think you know, you **don't**. For both our sakes Mike, leave it alone."

"Fine." Thorton sighed. "Have it your way."

"Good." Albatross said. "Are we done then?"

"Yes." He nodded slowly. "Just one more thing."

"What's that Mike?"

Thorton threw a quick glance to his right before turning back to Albatross, a fierce look in his eyes.

"**I'm going to take her away from you.**"

"Excuse m...?"

He cut the feed and the image of Albatross went black. What was that, shock? Surprise? It was hard to tell with Albatross, the man wasn't exactly known for wearing his feelings on his sleeve. Thorton turned his gaze toward the laptop on his right again. As expected the G22 signal had been re-routed through several different dummy locations to throw off traces. Bouncing from Seattle to London, through Scandinavia and Russia, jumping all the way to Tokyo, Japan and beyond. He had prolonged the call until the signal had stopped - permanently - in Ontario, Canada of all places.

"Gotcha." He muttered under his breath.


	2. Part II

**Part II - "Jamming with Heck"**

The dresser whirred and clicked as it began unfolding itself like an envelope. Thorton looked down at what was left of his personal arsenal. His trusty pistol, a silenced UC Commissar, was still in top condition but lacked ammunition. Only a handful of tranquilizers and perhaps a dozen or so standard caliber rounds remained. Unlike the gun, his body armor had seen better days. When inspected up close the padded garment revealed several bullet holes, that frankly Thorton had no idea how he had survived. Furthermore the armor reeked of something akin to burned plastic. At least the stench from the Taipei sewer systems had finally worn off he noted with some satisfaction. As it turned out, all you had to do to avoid costly dry cleaning bills was to wait until some sadistic mad person hurled a napalm bomb at you – which, in Thorton's estimation, happened at least once a week. Then, granted that your reflexes were good enough, the armor usually only ended up smelling a little bit crispy, instead of actually turning into crispy little bits. Problem solved, disgusting odor erased – or at least replaced by a less disgusting one. Either way a deal well worth considering in these uncertain times of economic upheaval.

Still eying the dresser, he grabbed a sheet of paper from a nearby drawer and began composing a short list of things he needed. Normally he would have typed directly into his PDA and emailed it - but unfortunately, his now one and only supplier, Steven Heck, had recently started a ban against all email traffic, citing that "The Illuminati had put a tracing program on his computer that he was trying to remove, and that for the time being he accepted only good old fashioned faxes."

* * *

AUTHOR'S NOTE: The PDF contains an image here showing Thorton's scribbled shopping-list:

Stuff:

5 x Flashbangs

3 x Shocktraps

2 x EMP's

Bullets:

2 Packs of Standard rounds

1 Pack Tranquilizers

Acid solution?

* * *

Somewhat used to the unstable persona of Steven Heck by now, Thorton had went out and picked up a cheap faxing machine at a local market without too many homicidal thoughts. Satisfied with the list, Thorton reached for his cell and started dialing. The receiver picked up after the fourth tone.

"Yeah? What? Who?" The voice on the other end sounded erratic.

"Heck? It's Mike." He paused and waited. When no reply came he spoke again. "Uhm, Michael Thorton?"

"...Steven." The voice belonging to Steven Heck replied in a low, menacing way.

"Right. Sorry." Thorton replied slowly.

Still not quite sure when the volatile Heck was being serious or joking, Thorton opted to tread carefully around the self-made superspy and conspiracy theorist - preferring not to find out just how much of it was an act, and how much was real.

"Look, I need your help with something." He continued.

"No problem buddy!" Heck replied, suddenly cheerful. "Ran out of surgical tubing? I got plenty more where that..."

"No, no, still have a few of those left, thanks" Thorton interrupted before Steven Heck could enter into one of his never-ending monologues. "I'm faxing over a list of things I need from your regular stock, but that's not why I'm calling." He paused. "I need a portable jamming device actually, and since Omen Deng is being stingy about letting me borrow his I thought you were the guy to call."

Heck chuckled. "You flatter me Mike! But you're also dead on. I have my whole place set up with different kinds of jamming action - radio waves, satellite signals, THE WORKS. You never know who's tryin' to listen in... or PEEK... but a portable one you say? That's gonna be expensive... aand, the range will suck, and it probably won't last long before the batteries die unless you wanna lug around a really big generator with..."

Thorton interrupted Heck again, his voice urgent. "Yeah, I need it to be able to scramble comms, kill video feeds and standard bugs. I'll need at least five minutes, maybe more. Money isn't a factor here, time is."

"OK Mike." Heck seemed lost in thought for a moment. "Actually, I think I know just the guy to hook us up! Not a week ago, this fella started moving his stuff into a basement down in Ching-Mei right? Not five minutes from where I live and the guy doesn't even have the common courtesy of dropping me a line. What's THAT about, right?" Heck snorted. "Now, from what I hear this guy's a friggin' ARTIST, a real technowizard. But I mean, what good is an artist without fingers Mike?"

Thorton closed his eyes and shook his head. "Actually, spare me the details – I don't wanna know. Just make sure this thing is easy to carry, the last thing I want is something clunky to weigh me down."

Heck lowered his voice to a conspiratorial whisper. "Inconspicuous eh? I can probably fit the thing into a pair of snazzy earrings for ya. What shape do you want? I have a pair of eagles and a diamond studded hippo." _The things people throw in the trash these days_ Heck muttered to himself with apparent distaste.

"Earrings. Yeeah. It's not that the thought of sporting a pair of eagles isn't appealing, it's just... I'm scared of pointy things, and I'd like to keep my ears intact."

"Gotcha. We'll save these badboys for another time then." Heck said, sounding just a little bit disappointed. "I guess we could go with something **boring**, like a pen?"

"A pen will be fine." Thorton replied quickly, glad to have moved away from Heck's more creative ideas.

"Great Mike! Me and Wen will get riight on it. Won't we Wen?" Heck said sweetly.

Muffled shrieks of panic started emanating from somewhere in Heck's immediate vicinity. A chill ran down Thorton's spine.

"So, ah, you still keeping that guy around Heck?"

When no reply came, Thorton realized his mistake and braced himself.

"...Steven." Heck said, once more reverting to his low, menacing voice.

Thorton restrained the impulse to walk up to the nearest window and hurl himself to a quick death. "Riiight, sorry."

Heck lit up again."Yeah, funny story! I had to call a buddy of mine to check on Wen and make sure he was comfortable and well-fed while I was helping you take out those blackops guys who framed you for the murder of Ronnie Sung right? So then..."

"Loook." Thorton interrupted. "I gotta dash, the line is... not secure anymore."

He mimicked the sound of interference static by blowing as hard as he could into the microphone and mumbled something about area 51. "Call me when you're done OK? Awesome."

He pressed the end call button on his phone and took a few deep calming breaths.


	3. Part III

**Part III - "St. George and the King's Daughter"**

Michael Thorton pressed himself against the cold concrete wall and inched closer to the goggled guard. The night air was freezing, making his senses tingle, his mind alert. He counted the steps and waited patiently. As the patrolling guard turned and exposed his back, Thorton left the cover of darkness and sprang into action, closing the distance with four powerful strides. Time seemed to slow to a crawl as he took the final step and launched himself into the air, extending his right knee. Alerted by the sound of footsteps the guard wheeled around, only to be knocked to the ground as Thorton's knee connected with his face and nose – which made a horrible cracking noise as the bone gave way. Coming down on top of the guard, he smashed a fist against the exposed throat area, effectively cutting of the flow of oxygen and rendering him unconscious.

"Sorry about the nose." He murmured. "I **was** aiming for the back of your neck, but you had to go and turn around."

He dragged the limp body back to where he had been hiding before continuing toward his goal; a large frost covered ventilation shaft protruding from the side of the wall. Thorton smiled at the mental image of a neon sign with the letters _**Spies enter here**_ that had just popped into his mind's eye. He hoped the oh-so inviting ventilation shaft hadn't been placed there as part of an elaborate scheme that would end with Thorton climbing into Albatross's private bed chambers during midnight snack-time. 

_Seeing that guy in a robe and slippers would be beyond traumatizing_ he thought while applying Heck's home-made acid solution to the steel bars covering the shaft. While the acid worked its mojo, Thorton fished out a pair of miniature clippers from one of the many pockets on his body armor. The half-melted bars yielded surprisingly easy to the clippers and it was not long before a not-so neat pile of them lay stacked on the ground in front of the shaft - leaving just enough room to squeeze inside. After leaning forward and shifting most of his weight to the front of the shaft, he assessed the foundation to be adequately sturdy. Before proceeding, he turned and surveyed the area one last time, but saw no cause for alarm. Inhaling deeply, he sunk himself head first into the pitch black shaft.

* * *

Hot water poured down her tense, aching body, slowly allowing the muscles to ease up and relax. The simple privilege of a warm shower was, she recognized, something she had missed dearly during the past month. Looking down at her body, she spotted various shallow cuts and bruises. Shrugging, she reached for the soap. It had looked a lot worse, there was nothing to complain about. "Every day we survive, is a day we have gambled against death and won." The words of her sometimes father, sometimes mentor echoed in her head.

_I'm alive. I have nothing to complain about_. She repeated inside her head.

Stepping out of the small glass cabin, she wrapped herself in a towel and walked over to the bathroom mirror. The purple coloring in her hair had almost faded away completely she noted with minor irritation. She thought briefly about what colors she had yet to try on. Perhaps a shade of blue? Green? But then she found herself considering letting her natural color grow out again for some reason. Perhaps it was childish of her to keep coloring her hair, as if she was still a sixteen year-old street punk. Maybe that's why **he** had called her a child. The words of Michael Thorton wandered into her mind again, as they had started doing more frequently as of late, usually against her will.

"That's no way to treat someone you care about, and no way to treat a child." Then he had went on to mention the locket. Albatross had called it a "childhood memento", but Thorton seemed to have seen something much more. His words had taken her by surprise, partly because he seemed to have perfectly grasped the unspoken meaning behind the locket she had worn for so long – something not even Albatross had caught on to, and few things ever passed by that man unnoticed. And then there was the way in which he had spoken to Albatross. As if he was lecturing a small boy caught with his hand in the cookie jar, and not a man at least twice his age. She smiled at the memory, then caught herself and shook her head angrily at the treacherous thoughts. She reminded herself sternly to stop entertaining these silly daydreams and fantasies. Also the mark of a child, she scolded herself. You won't see him again, and why would you? This world isn't some rosy fairytale where people like you get a happy ending. How greedy can you get? You're alive. You have nothing to complain about. A lump was slowly gathering at the center of her throat as she repeated the mantra over and over again. She stared stubbornly into her reflection until the thoughts ebbed away.

* * *

Michael Thorton swore under his breath as he bumped his head on the roof for the second time in the thick darkness of the shaft. He couldn't for the life of him understand why he hadn't stripped the unconscious guard of his handy night-vision goggles before descending into narrow, compact darkness. Perhaps a particularly acute subconscious sense of fashion had simply vetoed the whole idea and in a remarkable act to preserve dignity, had opted to send him into shaft-nightmare blindly. Or perhaps he just hadn't thought of it. Either way, there was no going back now. He snaked forward on his belly, using his elbows for support. The air was thick and uncomfortable to breathe, making the strain of movement doubly exerting. After a few sweaty, agonizing moments, a dim light started filtering into the cramped space from an opening ahead. He halted temporarily as the light revealed large chunks of dust bobbing about the shaft, pulling up part of his shirt to cover his mouth. Then, reaching the opening with a few jerking movements, he peered down into the room below. Not entirely surprised, Thorton saw what looked like a computer hub. Not bothering with the details, he straightened up and continued his crawl down the shaft. It wasn't long before he started second guessing the success of his little endeavor. Each room he passed seemed the same – dull concrete walls, massive computer networks, pale technicians and goggled men. 

_Where do these people sleep?_

Was there another level that he had missed in his initial scouting of the building? He doubted it. The blueprints he had acquired seemed authentic enough, if a bit dated. Just as he had about half convinced himself to turn around and rethink his entire approach, he passed a room that did not resemble the others. He couldn't see much from his narrow top-down view except the edge of a bed, a pair of protruding feet and a familiar looking belt buckle discarded on the floor. He wiped the sweat from his brow and tucked the shirt back under his body armor before dropping down the shaft, landing in a crouching position on the matted floor below. While straightening up, he made a whole little show of brushing the dust off his clothes before turning to the bed, a smug smile playing on his lips. And true enough, there she was. Thorton stared in disbelief as he saw the girl he knew only as Sis, lying on her stomach with a huge pair of black headphones covering her ears - completely oblivious to his presence while nodding her head back and forth to the music. He made a wry face and half- considered climbing back up the shaft again to re-stage his dramatic entrance later, but dismissed the idea as too whimsy, even for him. Instead he simply walked over to the bed and sat down. Feeling the sudden added pressure on the bed Sis jumped up in surprise, throwing off her headphones and crawling up against the wall.

"I come in peace." Thorton said softly, while simultaneously signing with his hands.

Sis blinked a few times, her eyes wide, then seemed to decide Thorton wasn't a hallucination and slowly started relaxing her stance.

"I hope you're comfortable with tight spaces and dust" He continued off-handedly, while nodding towards the open duct in the ceiling. "Cause there's a lot of it where we're going."

Sis slumped down on the bed, eying Thorton suspiciously now.

*I don't understand* She signed, her fingers moving quickly. He noticed she was trembling, but could not tell if it was from fear or excitement.

He reached in under his shirt and procured the locket depicting St. George that Sis had given to him those months ago on the yacht in Russia. She simply stared as he held it up. This time he didn't try giving the memento back, but rather kept it around his neck as a sign that he accepted the role she had given him in the tale.

"You gave this to me for a reason." He said. "Sorry for being a tad slow on the uptake, but there **was** that whole business with the government wanting me dead and all. But I'm here now, hopefully that counts for something."

*You...* She shook her head. *You're not real. People like you don't exist.* She signed frantically.

"If you think **I'm** bad, you should meet this guy I know called Steven Heck. Now **there's** a piece of work... one time, he had me half convinced the CIA had planted a listening device inside a cat during an operation called "Acoustic kitty"

Sis frowned at him, clearly confused by the onslaught of mental images containing kittens and antennas.

Seeing her expression Thorton threw up a dismissive hand. "Ah, nevermind. The point is, this is a jailbreak... you coming?" When Sis didn't answer immediately, he added "Or perhaps you prefer to stay with old bird-flu and his army of robot men?" Thorton winked and extended his right hand.

A wide grin was slowly spreading across Sis's face as Thorton's proposal started to sink in. Without warning she grabbed his hand and scooted off the bed. Thorton watched in amusement as she darted back and forth across the small room, gathering the belongings that seemed to matter the most and stuffing them into a backpack. After a minute or two she seemed satisfied and settled down again, eying him closely as if he could vanish into thin air any given second.

*Got everything you need?* He signed.

She spun around and grabbed a black fur lined hoodie hanging by the door, together with a belt and two silver revolvers.

*I do now* She signed back, then suddenly stiffened, a look of dawning horror in her eyes.

"What is it? Something wrong?" Thorton asked alarmed.

*Cameras* She signed in a panic. *This place is rigged with cameras, they will have seen you in my room and...!*

He held up a hand. "Don't worry, got it covered." He procured a small ballpoint pen from his left pocket. "Portable jamming device." He said. "Heck promised at least five minutes, and I've only been here..." He looked at his wristwatch. "Seven and a half. Huh. Guess Heck underestimated the power of this thing...?"

A cacophony of shouts and footsteps erupted from down the hall as the alarm went off. Thorton groaned. Sis buried her face in her hands.

"Now, I know what you're thinking. I make a pretty lousy St. George."

Sis looked up and shot him a frosty glare.

"In my defense I..." He paused for a second. "No, actually I got nothing."

She rolled her eyes and started pulling him toward the space underneath the open ventilation shaft.


	4. Part IV

**Part V - "Rime of the Ancient Mariner"**

Crawling back out through the ventilation shaft with Sis in close tow proved much easier than going in had been, partly because Thorton knew where he was going now - but mostly because there was an entire building full of armed men looking for them. The feeling Thorton had while traversing the shaft was not unlike the one he had gotten as a small boy after kicking a hornets nest - despite the stern warnings issued by his mother. The memory of the provoked swarm of bees descending on his hapless 10-year old self still made him cringe. His inability to leave his curiosity un-sated then had cost him a week in a hospital bed with the daily servings of strawberry flavored Jello as the only silver lining.

After passing over several rooms existing in complete states of uproar, they reached the shaft entry point. Thorton swung himself out into the pale moonlight and watched as Sis emerged from the blackness of the shaft. Landing on the ground beside him, she cocked an eyebrow at the sight of the twisted stumps of steel strewn around the area. With no time to explain, Thorton simply shrugged while motioning for them to continue. Passing the still unconscious guard, Thorton doubled back and kicked the defenseless man lightly in the side.

*What are you doing!* Sis signed in alarm.

"Oh, just making sure." He replied, eying the still limp form of the guard. "We're good. Let's go."

She rolled her eyes at him behind his back but followed. It was not long until the loud clatter of boots started echoing between the building walls, as what Thorton could only assume to be search parties were sent out after them. In response, they broke into a sprint, navigating the shadows of the concrete maze that was the G22 compound. Their swift flight ended by a high barbed fence that stretched into the darkness as far as they could see in either direction.

*Where are we going?* Sis signed while breathing heavily from the strain, creating little puffs of smoke in the air.

"I have a car waiting." Thorton motioned toward the looming trees on the other side of the fence while catching his breath.

Sis nodded. *Hurry*

When it proved difficult to find his way back to the spot he had entered from before, Thorton put his clippers to use again and created another small gap in the fence that they squeezed through. Once on the other side, they resumed their frantic pace until safely cloaked in the dark of the waiting vegetation. Thus covered by the dense forest, they slowed down and focused on making as little noise they possibly could instead.

It was an odd feeling, walking in silence beside the girl he knew only as codename Sis. Michael Thorton was used to living life in a kind of flow where he relied heavily on instincts and - he would be the first to admit - whatever whims any given moment offered to him. But the decision to come after Sis had been no mere whim. He felt there had formed a kind of unspoken bond between the two since the events in Russia. For some reason, the girl's hard face and sad eyes had lingered on his mind.

He threw a sidelong glance at Sis as they walked. Her clothes were dirty and had ripped in various places, her cheeks were flushed and her hair tousled – and yet there was a kind of fierce vitality to the girl. An invisible strength that seemed to emanate from her very being. Something he found himself very much drawn to. Maybe the attraction had something to do with the fact that she had very nearly shot his head off on the yacht in Russia, if so, he was more of a masochist than he gave himself credit for. Sis caught his gaze and curled her lips.

*Something funny?* He signed, trying to smooth over the sting of embarrassment he felt in the pit of his stomach.

*Nothing.* She answered, turning her attention back to the trees ahead with a smug look in her face.

The noise from the compound had long since died down behind them as they moved ever deeper into the foliage. The tall pines surrounding them swayed and creaked ominously in the wind, but the forest was otherwise oddly emptied of sound.

Thorton found himself on edge, straining his eyes and ears to pick up any indication that something was wrong. Coming upon the clearing where he had hidden the car, Thorton threw out an arm in front of Sis and stopped abruptly. Sis raised an eyebrow as they halted for no apparent reason.

*What?* She signed.

"I'm not sure." He whispered.

He took a few trying steps forward, slowly unholstering his gun. In response the entire clearing suddenly lit up with the blue sheen of over a dozen goggled G22 agents, each training an angry red dot on Thorton's chest. He froze in place and watched as a pale, balding man dressed in a blue coat stepped out of the shadows.

"Sis." Albatross said in a low, hollow voice. "I didn't expect you to go along with this madness. I thought I knew you better than this."

Sis stiffened at the sight of the man whom she recognized as both mentor, father and in many respects jailer - quickly turning her eyes away as if burned.

"And you..." Albatross turned to Thorton, raising his voice considerably. "Did you really think you could just waltz in here and do as you like?"

"I crawled actually, and let me tell you, those vents are in some serious need of cleaning." Thorton replied.

"Always a ready joke to fall back on Mike. Do you not recognize the seriousness of the situation you have created here?"

"What can I say, it's a defense mechanism. Beats screaming like a schoolgirl every time someone points a gun at me, or..." He counted the red dots on his chest. "Fourteen, in this case."

"I suppose you're under some delusion that what you're doing here is noble?" Albatross continued, ignoring Thorton. "You have forced this confrontation without all the facts. Something I tried to communicate when we spoke last. A wasted effort, apparently."

"You know what, you can keep the facts." Thorton spat, angry now. "I don't need to hear whatever justifications you tell yourself to sleep at night. You seem to be overlooking the part where Sis actually has a will of her own. Contrary to what you may think, I didn't actually force her out here at gunpoint."

Albatross's face hardened. Reluctantly, he moved his eyes to where Sis stood. She met his gaze this time, her hands trembling as she signed.

*Please* She pleaded, her eyes full of unspoken meaning. *This is what I want*

"Impossible!" Albatross yelled. "My personal feelings aside, you are asking me to risk everything! Locations of G22 cells, safe houses, details on major operations and sensitive information I have only entrusted to a select few. How can I possibly..." His words trailed off.

Sis shrugged and pointed to her mouth. *Who would I tell?*

"Don't be ridiculous! You and I both know there are other ways to extract information... most of them involving considerable amounts of pain."

*So I won't be captured* Sis continued stubbornly.

"You know I don't leave things up to chance. Not if I can help it." Albatross

replied heavily. "But answer me this, what could I have possibly done to warrant this act of desperation Sis? I thought you believed in the long-term agenda of G22? I thought you were committed to seeing this through to the end."

She hesitated for a moment, then began moving her hands. *I remember seeing a great man when I used to look at you. A man who would right the wrongs in this world... or die trying.*

"I am still that man." Albatross whispered. "Nothing has changed."

Sis shook her head. *There was a time when you were not so willing to throw away a life for the good of the cause. I remember how much each death used to pain you.*

"Sis... please." Albatross sounded tired.

She continued mercilessly. *No matter how hard I try, I can't help but to wonder when **my** time will come.* She paused, inhaling deeply. *When the day you decide my life is worth sacrificing comes, will you still be the same man?*

A wild gleam had entered into the old man's eyes. "I... I would never! You...!" He blurted out.

*Then let us go* Sis tried again, the same pleading look in her face.

Albatross closed his eyes and breathed deeply. For a moment Thorton thought Sis had gotten through to the old man, but then he opened his eyes and there was something not quite human about them.

"No." He said. "No. I cannot let this childish act of rebellion jeopardize everything I have built over the years. There is simply... no other way. If this earns me your contempt, it saddens me more than you can know. Though perhaps with time, you will see my decision here tonight as correct."

Sis let her arms fall to her sides again, a look of indignant frustration spreading across her face.

"So what happens now Albatross?" Thorton spoke up. "Unless you're willing to hug it out and share childhood traumas, I'm fresh out of ideas."

"Fisher." Albatross ignored Thorton's remark yet again and motioned to one of the G22 agents. "Kindly escort Sis back to the facility."

Sis shook her head and took a step back when the agent responding to the name Fisher approached. *What are you going to do?* She signed, her eyes wide.

"You don't need to be here for this." Albatross said coldly.

Fisher moved closer again, grabbing Sis's right arm. "Come with me." He said in a flat, metallic voice.

"See? They **are** robots." Thorton exclaimed.

Sis pulled away her arm angrily, sidestepping the agent and moving up beside Thorton.

*You wouldn't* She signed frantically toward Albatross. *You can't*

"Get her out of here!" Albatross barked.

"Wait." Thorton held up a hand as several agents started moving towards Sis.

"I don't want her to see this either."

Albatross's eyes narrowed.

"She'll go quietly." He continued. "I just need to do something first."

Sis flashed her angry eyes toward Thorton. *I will do what?*

Thorton smiled wryly and without warning leaned in and kissed her. At first her lips were stiff on his, then she gradually relaxed and he could feel the sweet scent of her breath as she reciprocated the kiss. "_Flashbang, back of my belt. When I turn."_ He whispered from the corner of his mouth as he pulled away.

"Are you finished... **agent**?" Albatross's voice trembled with anger, his face drained of all color.

Thorton straightened up and turned to face Albatross again. "Yes, and let me tell you. That was SO worth it." While he spoke he could feel Sis tug at the back of his belt. He prayed she could tell the difference between the flashbangs and explosive grenades in the dark.

Albatross glared at his men. "What are you waiting for?"

While the agents inched closer, a small white object caught Thorton's eye. He blinked, gasped, then closed his eyes as pure white light erupted across the clearing with a loud earsplitting ***BANG!*** - And then they were running.

* * *

_Author's Note: The PDF contains an image of Thorton's sneaky kiss here  
_


	5. Part V

**Part IV - "Bee Stings"**

In the midst of all the confusion that ensued, Michael Thorton realized he must have closed his eyes a nanosecond too late and received a portion of the blast from the flashbang. Still blinking white dots from his eyes, he stumbled forward through the woods. Barely keeping up with Sis he focused what little vision he still had on her turquoise scarf while struggling to maintain his footing. Somehow, they were managing to put distance between themselves and the stunned G22 agents back in the clearing. A few short, intense minutes passed before Thorton's eyesight returned to normal and navigating the trees became a considerably smoother endeavor.

"Ok. Stop. Stop!" Thorton huffed behind Sis who showed no indication of ever slowing down.

At the sound of Thorton's voice, she turned to the side and ducked down behind a pair of boulders.

"If we keep on running blindly they will find us sooner or later." Thorton whispered between strained breaths as he crouched down beside Sis. "You know the area better than me, is there a highway nearby? Preferably in the opposite direction of the clearing with all the angry guys?" He added.

*Follow me* She signed, a determined look in her face. While Thorton readied himself for another sprint, Sis touched his shoulder lightly. *I know this must sound crazy* She signed. *But please, don't hurt him. Ok?*

He looked at her grave face and nodded. "I understand."

Upon breaking cover, a loud shot rang out, hitting the rock behind them and sending shards flying in all directions. Acting on reflex, they simultaneously darted in behind a pair of trees and continued outside the shooters line of sight. The maneuver bought them no more than a few seconds until the next shot whizzed by, only narrowly missing them.

Sis changed direction on the fly, veering between trees to make them a harder target. Sweat trickled down Thorton's back as they ran, quickly turning cold in the night air. When the third shot he was expecting to come didn't, he dared a quick glance over his shoulder. Several dark silhouettes with blue glowing eyes followed between the trees, no more than a few hundred yards away by his best estimation. Slowing his pace for a few seconds, he loosened the rest of the flashbangs and explosive grenades from his belt and lobbed them through the trees at random before speeding up again. He doubted his efforts would do any real damage to their pursuers, but was perfectly willing to settle for a distraction, or even minor nuisance at this point. The forest lit up behind them as the flashbangs and grenades detonated. Sis reacted to the opportunity and changed direction again, leading them down a steep slope to their immediate right. Several minutes passed and a second glance behind them seemed to indicate they had lost their pursuers, at least temporarily. Sis pointed a finger at a spot in the distance while the trees around them started thinning out. Straining his eyes, Thorton caught a glimpse of the plain surface of what he hoped to be a well trafficked road. With less than fifty paces left to the edge of the forest, another shot suddenly rang out - this time finding its mark. Thorton grunted as the bullet pierced the side of his body armor and delved into his flesh. At first he thought the bullet had been absorbed by the armor plating and merely knocked the wind out of him for a second, but then he saw the lines of crimson red trickling from underneath the armor. He grimaced at the sight, but felt no pain, only numbness. He reached for his gun and fired a few shots over his shoulder as he continued to run. The last stretch seemed to be the longest yet as Thorton strained in anticipation of the fourth shot. But it never came. Instead the entire forest behind them lit up with gunfire. With bullets hailing down all around them Thorton realized his life wasn't the only one in danger anymore. The time for carefully aimed shots was over. With their targets so close to escape, the desperate G22 agents were throwing all finesse out the window – relying on quantity over quality to get the job done. The seconds crawled by, each one seemed long enough to have seen them dead five times over. But then the road opened up before them as they shot out of the tree line, somehow unscathed. Thorton smiled wearily, realizing they were going to make it. Shifting his weight forward, he prepared to slide down the open ditch leading out onto the road - when he suddenly found himself hurtling through the air. Not realizing his movements were actually the product of a hail of bullets smashing into his exposed back – Sis threw herself into the air alongside Thorton. While he crashed head-first into the ground below, Sis landed smoothly. Not pausing long enough to notice what had happened she got to her feet again, simultaneously drawing her silver revolvers. All semblance of caution gone, she placed herself in the middle of the road and waited as a passenger car quickly approached. The tires of the car made a loud screeching noise when the driver hit the breaks to avoid running over the girl who had suddenly appeared in the middle of the road.

"What the hell are you doing you crazy bitch?" The voice belonging to the owner of the car rang out as he stepped out of the vehicle. "I barely saw you and...!"

Sis silently raised one of her revolvers and sent a bullet flying into the ground a few inches from the man's feet.

"...the fuck!" The man jumped back in surprise.

Sis waved her gun, looking at the man with a raised eyebrow as if to ask: _what are you still doing here?_

"Take it, for chrissakes take it!" The man yelled and started sprinting off into the grass field on the opposite side of the road.

Sis got into the drivers seat and opened the door to the passenger side, motioning for Thorton to get in. Dragging himself up on unsteady, shaking legs, Thorton climbed into the car and sank down in the seat with a low moan. Sis stomped down on the gas pedal and sent them speeding down the road. Keeping a foggy eye on the rear view mirror, Thorton saw the edge of the forest fill up with blurry shapes of men dressed in red.

"That was... wasn't very nice of you." Thorton grunted groggily. "Now that poor guy will have to... walk. Unless one of the guys back there offer... a piggyback ride."

Sis ignored him, fixating her eyes on the road ahead.

In a sudden fit, Thorton keeled over in his seat and coughed violently. Then, coming back up he saw a spray of red flash across the hand he had used to cover his mouth. He quickly wiped the blood on his sleeve and turned to face the window, desperately trying to combat the fear that was welling up inside of him. As his breath was racing out of control, the morning sun broke over the horizon, hitting him clean in the face with a shower of blinding light. He shut his eyes and the image of his 10-year old self nursing several swollen bee stings entered his mind's eye again.

_Bee stings as a boy, bullet holes as a man_. He realized he hadn't changed much, feeling just as frightened now as he had been then.

Taking her eyes off the road for a moment, Sis shot Thorton a worried glance. A strangled noise halfway between a gasp and an outcry escaped her as she saw the growing pool of red forming on his seat.

"Ah, you got me." Thorton smiled weakly, opening his eyes and turning away from the sunlight. "I was planning on... suffering in silence... you know, _take it like a champ_ as my old football coach Jim Barnaby used to say." The numbing adrenaline was slowly leaving his body, instead being replaced by sharp stabs of white hot pain. He winced and clenched his teeth.

There was panic in Sis's eyes now. She trampled down on the pedal, pressing the protesting car to its maximum capacity. Thorton blinked and swayed as the pain inside broke like a dam, flooding his senses. It was unbearable. Every inch of him cried out for release, even as the pain continued to grow. And then, when his entire world was only pain - he expected some sort of break to happen, a snap in his mind, a still greater level of pain to come perhaps? But there was nothing. All was pain, and because all was pain - he realized - it no longer hurt, just as a fire cannot feel the burning lick of its own flame.

"If I wake up in a hospital bed..." Thorton mumbled, his voice barely a whisper. "I'm going to want balloons."

Darkness came then, at long last letting him sink into the realm of unconscious oblivion.


	6. Epilogue

**Epilogue**

The muffled noise from the busy street below the open balcony was gently brushed aside by the cool breeze. The sun radiated high above, celebrating its free reign in the cloudless sky.

Michael Thorton grimaced slightly as he sat up from the recliner and reached for his drink – a purple, sparkly thing with ice cubes and a lemon on top. He took a sip.

"Where did you learn to make these?" He asked. "Bartendering at Albatross's 60th birthday-bash?"

Sis glared at him from the jacuzzi. *Not to your liking?*

He raised a hand. "No, no, don't get me wrong, it's delicious – but being a guy, you know... I can't possibly drink this and pretend to keep my manhood."

Sis pursed her lips skeptically. *I have to help you up the stairs, what part of your manhood are you trying to preserve exactly?*

He pretended to ignore her. "It might be the umbrella." He mused, then shrugged and took another sip.

Sis leaned up against the side of the jacuzzi. *I'm curious, where did you learn to sign?*

Thorton smiled. "I was a language expert back when I was with Langley actually." He said. "Sign language wasn't mandatory but I figured what the heck, if I happen to run into any sweet looking mute chicks, it'd be totally worth it."

Sis rolled her eyes. *You do realize you are just about the corniest person I know, right?*

Thorton winked, then grew more serious. "Too bad I'm in no condition to take you out and show you the benefits of your newfound freedom. It must really suck to be cooked up here with me all day."

*Don't be stupid* Sis climbed out from the hot tub, drying herself on a towel and sliding her black hoodie over her head.

"I'll make it up to you as soon as I can walk more than five feet without loosing my breath. I promise." He paused. "Besides I don't understand why you're being so stubborn about this, I'm telling you I'd be fine if you wanted to go out and enjoy yourself for a night. Really."

She simply shook her head. *I want to be here, who's being stubborn?*

Thorton shrugged again, still looking a bit crestfallen.

Sis looked thoughtful for a moment, squinting in the sunlight. *What was that about a... sound system from Russia that you mentioned before? You seemed really excited* She signed.

Thorton's face brightened. "Oh, you're gonna love this. Come on, help me down the stairs."

She smiled and leaned in to take his arm but instead of letting her pull him up, Thorton dragged her into his arms and kissed her. She bit his lip playfully and kissed him back.

*You're pretty sprightly for a man who just got out of the hospital with multiple gunshot wounds you know* She signed as they broke off from each other. *Are you sure you're not just faking this to make me take care of you?* Sis raised a critical eyebrow.

He laughed and got up, letting her support part of his weight now as they made their way toward the stairs.

"So, there was this Russian drug lord, Brayko." He began, his voice becoming more animated by the moment. "First of all, the man had the WORST taste in the history of the known universe..."


	7. Legal Stuff & Misc

**Legal stuff**

Alpha Protocol is the intellectual property of Obsidian Entertainment, trademark licensed by SEGA Europe.

This work of fiction is a non-commercial fan production and can be distributed freely provided that it remains free, unaltered and that the author (me) is credited.

All images contained in this PDF were created in Photoshop using actual in-game screenshots of Alpha Protocol, together with some stock-photos and other resources.

* * *

**Author's Notes**

The following soundtracks were used for inspiration:

Spy Game, composed by Harry Gregson-Williams

Secret Agent File, by Billy Strange and Neil Norman

The Best of Bond, by various artists

The Bourne Identity, composed by John Powell

The Bourne Supremacy, composed by John Powell

The Bourne Ultimatum, composed by John Powell


End file.
